The Voiceless
by jarmrcc1
Summary: *Moved to 'Blind Spot'* Welcome to Beacon Hills! Population 15,544 and falling! Life was always pretty average for Emma Moore, and she was perfectly comfortable living in peace. That was until mysterious 'mountain lion' attacks began to occur, leaving the township in a state of confusion and panic. Is Emma ready to accept the unexplainable, or will she remain in ignorant bliss?
1. Chapter 1 - Emma Moore

**Edited: 22nd August, 2015**

**I do not own _Teen Wolf_, or any of the characters other than my own. All rights go to the respective owners.**

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There is something magical about being a child; when a wooden stick has the power to transform into a sword forged by woodland elves and blessed by a wizard, or a laser gun used by soldiers on the finest spaceship in the entire galaxy. When you are a child a name no longer has a simple meaning: Charlie who lives at number fourteen becomes Charlie the Ruler of the Universe (and this newly born title must be respected). In the world of a child there are no limitations: the ability to move objects with the power of thought is a real possibility and no matter what anyone says, the glass of orange juice did move an inch. Whole conversations can take place on a plastic block moulded to resemble a phone and the imaginary tea a child makes is the most delicious thing in the world. Life is full of colour and imagination and carelessness – the only thing a child has to worry about is getting caught while playing hide and seek. A back garden is a jungle of possibilities and hidden treasures just waiting to be discovered by an eager explorer. Children view the world with wide open eyes and can find fascination in the smallest of things; even watching a snail creeping across the ground can be transformed into the most exciting Formula 1 race. Children listen with rapt attention to bedtime stories about knights and princesses, dragons and mermaids, kings and queens and imagine themselves travelling on brave quests or diving under the sea to have lunch with an octopus. There are endless possibilities that exist within the mind of a child. A child can be a fairy, a wizard and a warrior all at once with only other children to tell them to pick one thing but of course the rule of "it's my game" stops all these arguments in their tracks. To be a child is to live with freedom and hope, to laugh at the silliest things and to cry without any true reason, to be able to stand under the tallest tree and want nothing more than to climb to the top and conquer the world. There are rarely any repercussions to any action and only minor consequences for misbehaviour. To be a child is truly a wonderful thing.

That is until the child begins to grow. Slowly the sword and laser gun begin to resemble a wooden stick more and more and Charlie really is just a name. The glass of orange juice does not move an inch nor even budge at all. The plastic box is replaced by a real phone and conversations are no longer pretend; the tea is no longer delicious but simply vacant air. Life remains full of colour but as the child grows the colours become less vibrant and are only really acknowledged when something spectacular occurs. Worries begin to increase and slowly but surely the child is no longer carefree. A garden is now just full of weeds which must be pulled from the ground and the grass cut regularly. Snails are simply snails and Formula 1 is watched on the television. Books allow an escape back to the fascination of a child even if the content has matured. A child begins to grow and: "it's my game" is no longer a valid excuse (the rule book must be consulted). The child begins to notice that not everyone is free and not everyone has hope. The child begins to learn to not react emotionally to everything and begins to learn the concept of internalisation. The child begins to think that they cannot climb the tallest tree and conquer the world and actions have larger repercussions and consequences; and, all too soon, the child is no longer a child.

At eight years old, Emma Moore stopped being a child. Her childhood ended sitting in a hospital waiting room surrounded by flickering florescent lights in the middle of a brutal storm.

As nurses and doctors scurried by her, they did not stop to notice the girl with crystal tears staining her cheeks, nor did they notice her silent stare. No one noticed Emma sitting on her hands as they gradually numbed and lost their grip on her innocence. Her eyes had stopped crying but remained open, unblinking at the wall across the hall from her. Emma's little eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she counted the white squares on the wall, wishing that by the time she counted them all that the day would reset and the world would be whole again.

She wished that she could wake up in her bed again and not insist that her father take her to the movies. She wished that she hadn't been tired of watching the same videos over and over again, and that her father hadn't given into her demands when the rain had just started falling. She wished that the rain had not picked up at such an alarming rate, and that her father had continued walking to the movies instead of seeking shelter in a bus stop. She wished that the owner of the red car had not lost control of the wheel and veered off the side of the road and straight into her father. But there were no genies to grant her wishes and she did not have the ability to rewind time. In that moment, Emma ceased being a child.

Emma's father died on the operating table that night at 11:11pm.

-X-

On a warm mid-August day when Emma was fourteen, she was forced to become an adult.

The sun had beaten down on Emma's fiery hair as she lounged in her garden, a book in one hand and a glass of lemonade in the other. Her sunglasses shielded her eyes from the blistering sun and her headphones shielded her ears from picking up any sound alerting her that something was amiss in the house behind her. It took Emma until the last drop of ice melted in her drink for her to find her mother lying on the kitchen floor in a pool of blood.

As Emma sat in the hospital waiting room for the doctors to help her mother, she recalled that she was sitting in the exact same seat she had sat in to wait for news of her father's condition.

At eleven minutes past eleven that same night, Emma was told that her mother was in recovery. The kindly nurse, whose curly black hair bounced as she walked, had smiled at Emma and led her into the room her mother was sleeping in. Emma had held her mother's hand and swept her thumb in small soothing lines across the back of it. As she watched her mother sleeping, she felt herself leaving her teenage years behind.

-X-

When Emma was sixteen, she did not realise that she was close to losing another part of herself. On a sunny morning, as she readied herself for school, that event was far away.

On that morning, as her world began to slowly change, she was stirring from her fitful – though short – sleep. Her blue and white striped curtains graciously blocked the sun from entering her bedroom before she was ready to face the day. An urgent beeping began to filter into her consciousness and, with a grunt, was quickly silenced by a firm slap to an alarm clock. Emma retracted her hand and rubbed at her eyes (which were unwilling to open). She threw her arms over her head and stretched her toes, letting out a yawn as she did so, embracing the feeling of her muscles stretching. Rolling out of bed with a sigh, she padded her way across the cream hallway and into the bathroom. She closed the bathroom door behind her and switched on the far too bright light. Squinting in the illuminated bathroom, Emma could finally take in her morning appearance and groaned when she saw the chaos on top of her head. Strands of red hair stuck out at every angle with sections having fallen out of her bun and trailed their way down her back or were framing her face. She turned the tap on and let the cool water splash into the sink and swirl down the drain before washing her freckled face.

Growing up, Emma was always ashamed of the freckles splashed across her skin. She would look at her fresh, clear faced classmates with such envy that she could have sworn she turned a little green. Her abundance of freckles, paired with her flaming red hair, made her a target for ridicule by the crueller children in her class. "Spotty face", "Dalmatian", "Ginger Nut", and "Fire Truck" where the names she would recall most often later in life when she lay awake at two in the morning, with sleep evading her. Such names, and her already low self-esteem, led to a young Emma trying to hide and cover up the very things that made her unique. She grew out her bangs – even though they irritated her eyes – and grew accustomed to pairing a baseball cap with most of her outfits.

When she was a child, she never understood why her mother insisted that her freckles and hair color were beautiful. It was simply incomprehensible to her. She would look at the children in her class, the majority of whom only had a few freckles scattered across their bodies, and viewed them as looking at the night sky with bare eyes. The stars on their skin were evenly spaced apart and barely noticeable. She looked at herself and could only compare her own skin to looking at the stars through a telescope; everything was brought into focus and cramped closer together, each star clambering for attention. Cluttered. Messy.

The red of her hair was another point of contention in her childhood. Her red locks were immediately noticeable in a sea of brown and black and blonde. Lydia Martin was the only other red head in her age group, yet Lydia had deniability. Lydia had the shade of red that Emma used to dream of having; it was the color of the rising sun, a beautiful stretch of gold paving, or a pool of daisies drenched in honey. Lydia could pass for strawberry blonde, Emma could not. Emma always thought of Lydia's hair in a pleasant manner, it _was _pleasing to look at after all, but she could never regard herself in the same fashion. Emma was a blazing fire, ribbons of scarlet silk, or drops of blood in a bowl of water. She never thought of her hair as being calming like Lydia's.

It wasn't until her father died that the teasing lessened somewhat – even children know when to be respectful – and she slowly began to release some of her self-hatred.

She remembered the day she began to value her freckles clearly. She had sat in a black padded chair in a hairdressing salon while her mother had her hair trimmed. There had been a stack of glossy magazines on the small oak coffee table beside her; the covers of the magazines were filled with beautiful women, smiling at the reader with dazzlingly white teeth and sparkling eyes, with sleek hair that Emma wanted to run her fingers through. She had picked up the magazine on top of the pile and gazed longingly at the blonde, freckle free, woman staring back at her. There was no doubt that the woman was beautiful, her smile seemed to scream "don't you wish you were me?" Emma agreed completely. Though she could only comprehend what a few of the words on the covers meant, it was clear to her that beauty excluded freckles and came in any shade other than red.

It was only when she accidentally sent the pile of magazines careening towards the marble floor that her mind-set began to change. She had stared at the mess she had made with wide eyes, and quickly scrambled from her seat to fix the disaster. When she was cleaning the mess, she found a magazine that she had been ready to dismiss as being like all of the other magazines when she noticed a flash of red out of the corner of her eye. She had stared at the woman occupying the cover of the magazine in awe. Before her was a beautiful woman with bright red hair – and not the Lydia kind of red, but the Emma kind of red – and to top it all off, the model was drenched in wonderful freckles. Emma had never seen a more beautiful woman.

"She looks like me, mommy!" Emma had exclaimed when her mother returned from her haircut.

"Well, would you look at that?" Her mother had smiled as she handed the hairdresser a twenty dollar bill. "Isn't she beautiful?"

Emma, too stunned to answer, could only nod her agreement.

"You can keep it if you want. God knows we've got plenty more," the hairdresser had offered.

Emma didn't think that there could ever be another woman like the one on the magazine, and so she clutched it to her chest and walked out of the salon with more of a spring in her step.

Years later, the magazine still maintained a coveted place in her overflowing bookcase.

Yanking her hair out of its tie, she let out a sharp yelp as strands were pulled from her scalp and groaned once more; she was not a morning person.

Her morning routine would normally only occupy a short amount of time; however, she had fallen into the awful habit of doing absolutely nothing until she had to rush so that she wasn't late for school. She had made the decision the previous night that that year would be different: she would not procrastinate in the morning, she would pack her school bag the night before and would organise herself so that she would be a complete state of bliss. That did not happen. So, while she procrastinated dressing, she began packing her black leather satchel bag – a birthday present from her mother – with a few notepads, a variety of pens and all of the standard school equipment. When she figured she had wasted enough time, she finally dressed herself and carefully applied a little bit of makeup to make herself look awake. Emma narrowed her eyes at her reflection, annoyed that no matter how much concealer she applied, her dark under-eye circles appeared to be a permanent fixture on her face.

Emma tiptoed from her bedroom towards the kitchen, hoping that she wouldn't wake her mother. Luckily, Emma could hear soft snoring filter out of her mother's bedroom. She knew that her mother had trouble sleeping, brought on by the frequent nightmares she lied about having. Emma could often hear her mother pottering about the house late at night through to the early hours of the morning. It wasn't often that Emma was awake before her mother but when it did happen Emma was extra careful to make as little noise as possible. Her mother, Delia, tried to shield her from her anxiety but Emma could see past her mother's happy charade. Whenever Delia thought that Emma couldn't see her, the mask was dropped and true sadness appeared in the woman's eyes.

Emma's mother and father (Delia and Mike) had started dating when they were fourteen and had decided that they never wanted to spend another day apart and had married when they were only nineteen; they were the closest thing to soul mates that Emma had ever encountered and it was therefore understandable that Delia was completely and utterly wrecked by Mike's untimely death. For months after the car crash that had stripped Mike of his life, Delia could barely function so Sheriff Stilinski had stepped in to help care for Emma. Throughout her entire life, Sherriff Stilinski had been a second father to Emma – he was Mike's closest friend after all – and when the accident had occurred there was no way he could have even thought of letting Delia and Emma Moore fend for themselves. Though the Sherriff was still struggling with the loss of his own wife, he and his son Stiles had looked after Delia and Emma and helped them get through the worst of their suffering. It was Sherriff Stilinski who had organised Mike's funeral when Delia couldn't cope with the loss.

Before leaving her house, Emma quickly grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl she had disastrously painted when she was six and the lunch her mother had made for her the night before.

As Emma walked to school, a police cruiser drove past her which instantly made her think of the sheriff and his son. The sheriff's son had a rather unusual name which he never told anyone, not even to Emma or to Scott McCall though they used to be best friends, preferring to be called Stiles instead. Stiles Stilinski was an unusual name to say the least, but Emma always thought that it suited the slightly unusual boy. She often regretted the way in which her friendship with Stiles had ended after her father's funeral: she had pushed him away and told him she didn't need him when in reality it was the opposite. She had refused to let him comfort her and had said some things that she really didn't mean. And though many years had passed, and she was certain that Stiles had forgiven her, the two had never really reconnected. They still spoke to each other on occasion, most often when they were given group work to do in classes, but they never regained the familiarity they once had with one another.

The void left by Stiles in Emma's life had been filled by Jessica Reynolds. Emma and Jessica had not been friends, nor acknowledged each other's existence, before Emma's father's funeral. But when Jessica had found Emma crying on the school bathroom floor, she had adopted Emma as her newest friend. Jessica had pulled Emma to her feet and looked right into her eyes and smiled; they never said anything as Jessica wiped Emma's tears away. A form of silent communication had passed between the two as they leaned against the sinks and waited for Emma's sobs to pass. Without ever having spoken to Emma, Jessica instinctively knew that she did not like people seeing her cry. And so they stayed in the bathroom in silence, Emma secretly grateful that she wasn't alone and Jessica happy that she had gotten the lonely girl to stop crying. Jessica had grabbed Emma's hand and had rubbed soothing circles into it with her thumb while Emma clung on for dear life. Since that day in mid-October Emma and Jessica – Ems and Jess – had barely spent a day apart and despite a few curious eyebrows being raised at the start of their friendship, they had never thought of each other as anything other than 'best friend'.

Without realising how much time had passed, Emma soon found herself situated outside of her school and began to blend in with the other students gradually making their way up the wide steps and into the school itself or as Jessica liked to call it "a torture chamber of Hell".

"Emma! Hey, wait up!" A shrill voice sounded behind her.

The shouter appeared from behind a mass of people and revealed herself to be short blonde girl whose extremely curly hair bounced as she jogged to catch up to Emma. Jogging wasn't exactly the appropriate way to describe the way the blonde was moving, resembling Bambi walking on ice as she teetered in her blue heels. The heels belonged to Emma's best friend Jessica who was quite obviously the opposite of Emma. While Emma had donned jeans and a t-shirt, Jessica had chosen to wear a dress with a white lacy skirt and sleeveless denim top half, she wore a white cardigan on top of that and had a small blue and gold watch attached to her right wrist. A pair of pearl earrings could be seen through Jessica's masses of curly hair and her denim blue backpack thumped against her back as she made her way to Emma.

"Well hello Mrs Radio Silence. Where have you been for the last week? I was beginning to think you were avoiding me". Jessica pouted but before Emma could so much as think of reminding her that it had only been a day since they last spoke, Jessica had linked her arm through Emma's and was marching them into the school. Emma stifled a laugh as Jessica never even took a breath before continuing. "You will _never_ guess what Ryan said to me! I was _so_ severely irritated and went off on one at him. We got into this massive fight and now we're not speaking. Well we haven't spoken since last night but _still_. Now, you listen to me Emma Moore, I realised that he actually _didn't_ do anything wrong but I'm still annoyed with him so we're not talking to him today. I repeat: _we're _not talking to him. So that means that _you're_ not talking to him either and the official Ryan Lucas boycott begins _right now._"

Emma couldn't help but laugh at her friend as she rambled. Jessica and her boyfriend Ryan were constantly fighting but Emma knew that as soon as lunch rolled round Jessica and Ryan would be loved up once more. Noticing Emma's sceptical look on her face, Jessica stopped walking and gave her a stern look, saying:

"I'm _serious_ this time Ems, we are not talking to him".

Emma rolled her eyes but nodded anyway in the hope that that would satisfy her friend. It seemed to do the trick as Jessica flashed a beaming grin and linked their arms together once more. A part of Emma thought that Jessica was only holding onto her so that she wouldn't fall over but she didn't voice this opinion, instead she chose to listen to Jessica moan about the latest episode of some TV show she was watching and how her favourite characters just wouldn't see that they were perfect for one another.

"Jess, hey…um, Jessica? Can we, uh…can we talk?" A sheepish voice sounded from the right of the two girls.

Jessica glanced at the boy who had spoken and frowned before slowly nodding. The boy made to move towards the school but stopped when he noticed that Jessica wasn't following him. His shoulders slumped as he turned nervously to face Jessica. _Poor Ryan, _Emma thought as she chose to give the two a little privacy by taking a step back and zoning out of their conversation.

Her mind began to wander before her attention was grabbed by two boys talking animatedly at the bottom of the school stairs: Stiles Stilinski and Scott McCall. However, being the distance she was from the boys, she was unable to hear their conversation about California's lack of wolves and severed bodies which would have been an unusual conversation for any passer-by to overhear. What made the conversation truly intriguing was Scott McCall's insistence he had been bitten by a wolf and revealed a bandage taped to his side underneath his shirt. Of the course this exchange was unnoticed by Emma who had returned her attention to Jessica and Ryan who had almost completely forgotten the previous night's argument (judging by the lack of space between their locked lips).

Emma had been best friends with Stiles Stilinski ever since they swapped crayons on their first day of Kindergarten (his blue crayon for her red one) and eventually spent more and more time together in the police station waiting for their fathers to wrap up whatever paperwork they had to finish. The two would sit in the Sheriff's office with their coloring books: Emma trying as hard as she could to stay within the lines while Stiles… it's safe to say that the Sheriff's desk was always a little more _colorful_ after a visit from Stiles. Or they would play 'pretend' and fight each other with their magic powers. However these games would always end quickly as they both always seemed to have a limitless supply of healing potion in their pockets and one would always accuse the other of cheating. Of course they would always have their other best friend – Scott McCall – to resolve these fights. The three had been inseparable when they were younger; if there was ever any trouble, you could expect to find Emma, Scott and Stiles at the centre of it. That had all changed when Emma, in her grief, pushed the boys away.

Emma felt a tap on her shoulder and looked round to find Jessica looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

"You seriously need to stop zoning out Ems, I've been trying to get your attention for, like, ten minutes," Jessica whined. "Come on, I want to sort my locker out before class".

Jessica reached up to Ryan and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek which made him blush ever so slightly before linking her arm with Emma's once more. Ryan had always been head over heels for Jessica and something as simple as a peck on the cheek could make his day. The two girls left Ryan behind them with a goofy smile on his face and made their way through the double doors and into the school.

Beacon Hills High School was like any other normal high school: rows of lockers lined the hallways, posters encouraging students to embrace their potential cluttered notice boards and students drifted from place to place already back in the school mind-set. There were the occasional bursts of laughter amongst the chattering students, the slamming of locker doors, the scuffing of trainers and the zipping of bags all added to the standard feeling of high school. Emma could smell someone's overuse of cologne mixing with a spritz of hairspray and the cleaning products used to scrub the floors for the arriving students.

"What happened with you and Ryan?" Emma inquired. "I thought we were boycotting him?"

"Nah, neither of us can remember what we were fighting about so, you know, forgive and forget and all that. Besides, his lips are too nice not to kiss," Jessica giggled as Emma sent her a playful glare.

"Didn't need to know that."

"You're just jealous because you're not getting any of this". Jessica winked at Emma and shook her hips before releasing a belting laugh, her anger of a few minutes previous completely forgotten.

"Yeah, that's exactly what it is. I just can't get enough of you Jess".

Jessica stuck her tongue out at Emma and flounced towards her locker, pulling Emma along with her. The friends had lockers beside one another and so were able to continue their conversation before they were interrupted by the tell-tale _click clack _of high heels. Lydia Martin had just strutted into the school. She flicked her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder and wiggled her fingers in greeting at a few of the other students. Lydia was what you could describe as a 'Queen Bee'; she had the brains, the popularity, the looks, the boyfriend, the works. The mere mention of Lydia Martin's name would cause a variety of words to spill out of the other students' mouths: "beautiful", "smart", "gorgeous" with a few mentions of her being a "heinous bitch" thrown in the mix. However, Jessica and Emma were amongst the few who Lydia deemed important enough to speak to, and Emma had long since gotten over her hair envy. As Lydia flounced passed them she waved and greeted them with a "good morning girls", before walking around a corner and disappearing from sight.

The bell signalling that classes were about to begin rang shrilly from above their heads and the two parted ways with promises to save each other a seat at lunch.

As Emma entered her first class of the day, the first thing she noticed was that she was to share it with both Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski. The second thing she noticed was that there were only two seats left available to her, both of which were behind the two boys. Emma never went out of her way to avoid them, but she never went out of her way to engage with them either. As such, it did not bother her that she would have to sit in such a close proximity to either of them.

Stiles on the other hand had clocked Emma as soon as she entered the room but, as he normally did when Emma was involved, immediately looked away as if he had been stung. When Emma's father had died, Stiles had been there for her; much to his father's annoyance, he had snuck out of the house on many occasions because Emma had phoned him in the middle of the night in tears. Stiles never wanted Emma to feel alone. Stiles was hurt to say the least when Emma shut him out, and had tried again and again to reason with her, but she had refused to let him in. Emma had been incredibly angry and had turned that anger on Stiles and their friend Scott, though Stiles had admittedly taken the brunt of it. Eventually, Sheriff Stilinski had convinced his son to give his grieving friend some space, and to let her make contact when she was ready. So when Emma walked into his English class and occupied the seat directly behind him, he could only stare straight ahead like a frightened rabbit and rub the back of his neck (which had always been a small habit of his).

Emma was blissfully unaware of Stiles' nervousness around her and smiled at Scott when he turned around in his seat to say hello to her. She reached for her bag, which had fallen to the floor in her haste to sit down, and began pulling out her notebook. She glanced at Stiles and noticed that he was no longer rubbing the back of his neck but was focused on the teacher Emma had not registered had begun talking. Some part of her understood that her teacher had mentioned a body being found in the woods. Emma had not heard anything about the discovery and made a mental note to ask Jessica about it the next time they saw each other. Emma did not notice that as the teacher was talking, his dull voice filling the room, that Stiles and Scott had shared a look at the mention of the body. However, as the lesson began, Emma tried to focus on the work in front of her and not on Stiles or the fact that a body was found in the woods.

As English had never been Emma's favourite subject, she was eternally grateful that the lesson was interrupted for even a short moment by the Vice Principal entering the class and ushering a girl Emma had never seen before into the room. The only way Emma could even think of describing the girl was as a modern day Snow White. With her pale skin and long curling black hair, the new girl looked like the animated character brought to life. The new girl was introduced as Allison Argent who shyly smiled at the staring students before quickly making her way to the only vacant seat left in the room.

Allison sat down in the plastic chair and Scott almost immediately turned around and offered her a pen. She looked at him in in confusion for a moment before taking the pen from his outstretched hand and smiling to herself. Alison was still confused however, as to how the boy she had yet to be introduced to could have known that she had forgotten to take a pen to school.

Emma was stolen of the opportunity to introduce herself to the new girl by the teacher beginning his lesson. It wasn't until the end of the school day that Emma and Allison met each other.

-X-

Ryan Lucas, Jessica's boyfriend, was a member of the championship winning lacrosse team along with Lydia Martin's boyfriend Jackson Whittemore (the captain of the team). As such, Emma was often dragged to watch the lacrosse practices by both Lydia and Jessica. That day, the three girls were joined by Allison Argent, whom Lydia explained was her 'new best friend'.

"Hi Allison, I'm Emma," she waved at the initially shy girl sitting on the bleacher next to her, before pointing to Jessica. "And this is Jessica".

Jessica glanced at Allison, offering her a quick smile, before returning her attention back to the lacrosse field and staring at her boyfriend warming up.

"Oh, hi, you're in my English class right?" Allison asked Emma, tucking her hair behind her ear as she did so.

"Yeah, I'm in the seat next to you." There was a short pause between the girls, neither really knowing what to say to each other and both hoping that either Lydia or Jessica would pull them out of the awkward silence.

"So, uh, where did you move from?" Emma really hated small talk but she figured that it was better to get to know Allison than to simply sit in uncomfortable silence.

"San Francisco." Allison offered with a small smile. "We move around a lot for my dad's work".

Lydia tapped Allison's arm to get her attention before gesturing to players on the field.

"Ok, so Jackson's over there," she pointed to her boyfriend with a proud smirk on her face. "That's Danny talking to Greenberg." Before Lydia could continue naming the players, Allison found her attention wandering to the floppy brown haired boy who had given her his pen.

"Who is that?" She asked, gesturing to Scott who was facing away from the girls.

"Him?" Lydia questioned to make sure that Allison was actually referring to the boy who she had never given the time of day to or to one of the more popular boys. "Not sure who he is."

Emma rolled her eyes at Lydia. "He's Scott McCall".

Sometimes Emma couldn't believe that Lydia would think herself so above everyone else that she didn't bother to learn people's names. A small part of Emma knew that Lydia's attitude was just an act and that she really did care about people besides herself and Jackson. However, that small part of Emma was made even smaller by Lydia's following question.

"Why?" Lydia's voice was filled with such disdain at even having to speak about someone who wasn't a part of the popular clique.

"He's in my English class", Allison replied, a bit cautious of Lydia's tone but couldn't help her mind drifting back to wanting to know more about Scott McCall.

As Allison was thinking about getting to know Scott, Emma found herself looking at Stiles Stilinski. He was a member of the lacrosse team, but not an active member; he was, as Jackson Whittemore so _affectionately_ put it 'a bench warmer'. Stiles never took part in the matches but every time Emma watched one of the games she silently hoped that that would be the day that Stiles was allowed to play. So far, he had only ever occupied the bench. As Emma watched him, she noticed him exaggeratedly wince and rub his shaved head, and heard the watching crowd wince in sympathy. Looking up in confusion, Emma noticed Scott flat on his back in the goal and clutching at his head.

"What happened?" Emma whispered to Jessica who grimaced.

"McCall got hit on the head with a ball".

Emma grimaced, knowing full well just how sore that could be. Scott recovered quickly and shook the embarrassment off and prepared himself for the next player to attempt to score a goal. This time, Scott managed to catch the ball aimed at him, much to everyone's surprise as it was no secret that Scott was not good at lacrosse. Even Stiles let out at surprised shout at his best friend's ability to actually catch the ball. Player after player tried to throw the ball past Scott but each time he caught it, not one managing to slip by him. The more throws he caught, the more the excitement in the crowd grew and soon people were cheering for him and his new found abilities.

Emma and Jessica shared a look of pure confused excitement, their mouths hanging slightly open as they turned back to the fields to stare at Scott. Jessica managed to catch Ryan's eye who merely shrugged his shoulders, confused just as much as everyone else. Emma could see Stiles bouncing in his seat, barely able to contain his exhilaration.

Emma whispered a quiet "oh no" when she noticed Jackson striding purposefully towards the front of the line of players trying the beat Scott. He pushed Ryan aside with his lacrosse stick and Emma could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. Jackson _did not_ like for anyone to be better than him. Emma and Jessica glanced at each other once again, this time with faces filled with nervous anticipation. They hated to think of what Jackson would do if Scott somehow managed to catch the ball Jackson would throw at him.

Jackson began to run at Scott, cradling the ball in his lacrosse stick, and Emma raised her hand to her temple as if she was going to shield her eyes but she found that she couldn't look away. As Jackson leapt into the air to throw the ball, everything stilled for a moment as if everyone was simultaneously holding their breath, then the spectacular happened.

Scott _caught_ the ball.

It was as if an explosion had occurred as everyone who had been sitting jumped to their feet and began cheering. Even Lydia jumped to her feet to cheer for Scott, knowing full well how angry that would make Jackson. Stiles was whooping and hollering in astonishment for his friend.

"Go Scott!" Emma and Jessica screamed while clapping their hands.

Stiles, hearing Emma's voice, whipped his head round to the bleachers to watch her jumping in joy for his best friend and for a moment wished that she was cheering for him. He was momentarily distracted by the sight of her red hair flashing in the sunlight before he realised that Emma was actually speaking to him.

"Stiles!" Emma waved her hand to catch his attention, wondering what he had been staring of into space at. "When did he learn to do that?" She shouted over the noise of the crowd once she had gained his focus.

Stiles simply shrugged his shoulders, a simultaneously bewildered and excited look on his face, as his way of an answer before he quickly turned back to the field to congratulate Scott.

Emma frowned at his back; recently Stiles had been more and more awkward around her and would fidget incessantly whenever she spoke to him. Emma understood that they were no longer best friends but they had always remained friendly to each other. She couldn't help but wonder what had caused the change in him.

As the crowd began to settle down, Jessica departed, claiming that she was going to speak to Ryan but Emma suspected that 'speak' was in fact code for 'kiss'.

"You're coming to my party Friday night, right?" Emma realised that Lydia was addressing her so she turned to face Lydia whose hand was firmly planted on her hip and her bag hanging from the crook of her elbow. From her tone, Emma knew that Lydia wasn't really asking, but telling.

"Um, yeah…yeah. I should be able to make it."

"Good." Lydia flipped her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder and began to walk away from the two remaining girls.

"I'm going to go have a word with Jackson." Lydia called over her shoulder and Emma knew that in this case 'have a word with' was more likely to be code for 'scold' than anything else.

"Are you heading out or staying behind?" Emma asked Allison who was still seated.

"I'm heading out too.'

The two girls made their way to the car park, chatting as they went. Emma discovered that Allison had lived in San Francisco for a year before moving to Beacon Hills (which according to her was a long time to stay in one place) while Allison discovered that Emma had never lived anywhere but Beacon Hills. Allison had taken gymnastics for eight years; Emma loved to sing even though she was terrible at it, but not the kind of terrible were she really knows she is good, no, Emma was the kind of terrible that is just plain _terrible_. Despite the fact that the two girls were rather different from one another, Emma found herself warming to Allison; in turn, Allison found herself warming to Emma, despite the fact that she had initially thought that Emma was a bit cold. Emma laughed at this and put it down to her 'resting bitch face'.

As the two girls parted ways, Emma wished that Allison would change her mind about not going to Lydia's party that Friday night, knowing that it would be a good opportunity for Allison to meet her other classmates. Another part of Emma wished that Stiles would make an appearance at Lydia's. Though she knew that this was not likely to happen given that neither he nor Scott were ever invited to either of Lydia or Jackson's parties, Emma still couldn't help but hope.

She wanted to talk to Stiles properly, not just the passing comments in school, to find out why he had suddenly started treating her differently. She worried that she had done something to upset him but could not for the life of her figure out what it was. She wracked her brain as she walked home to come up with a reason but her mind drew a blank. Emma found herself wishing that Stiles would sneak into Lydia's party if he had to. She just wanted to speak to him and clear the air if she had to. She also wanted to ignore the weird butterflies that had started up in her stomach when she thought of Stiles' hazel brown eyes and the splattering of moles and freckles across his face. She especially did not want to think of his hands as he rubbed the back of his neck or his gangly movements. No, this was the same Stiles that she was best friends with as a child. She did not think of him in any other way.

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**Hope you enjoyed it, and thanks for reading! Let me know what you think, feedback is greatly appreciated.**


	2. Chapter 2 - Friday Night

**Edited: 22nd August, 2015**

**Disclaimer: I do not own_ Teen Wolf_, or any of the characters other than my own. All rights go to the respective owners.**

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Jessica Reynolds liked pretty things. One of her dads, no one was sure which one, had nicknamed her Little Magpie when they adopted her. When she was a baby, she appeared to collect anything sparkly she could get her tiny hands on and so the name stuck. As Jessica grew up, that remained the same. Jessica seemed naturally drawn to glittering necklaces and sparkling bracelets, pretty dresses and soft cardigans. She loved them all. Of course, she loved them within reason and found that she could love them from a distance if she could not afford them. She worked in a small café to earn money to buy the pretty things she loved as her fathers insisted she learn the value of money.

Her dad, Franklin Reynolds, was a stout car salesman whose suits were always too big and his tie always set at a slight angle. He never wore black suits, claiming that they should be reserved solely for funerals and weddings; in precisely that order since he believed that even wearing black at a wedding was too grim. Therefore, he only owned one suit in black with the rest being grey, blue and brown. His light brown, almost blonde, hair was always ruffled no matter how much time he spent styling it into place.

Franklin's husband, Grayson, was the opposite. Jessica's father, Grayson Reynolds, was a serious man, working as a doctor in the local hospital. He enjoyed that his first name sounded like a second name, believing that it gave him a certain gravitas. Grayson appreciated a good black suit, claiming that they suited any occasion (even events that weren't funerals or weddings), much to his husband's annoyance.

The nickname Little Magpie was coined after baby Jessica stole her father's stethoscope and hid it in her crib. This incident lead to many light-hearted arguments centring around who created the name. Her father claimed that since it was his stethoscope it was logical that he had crafted the name. Whereas, her dad claimed that since he was the one to find Jessica clutching the stethoscope it made sense for him to be the creator of 'Little Magpie'. Sixteen years after the name was created, the argument was yet to be resolved (both being rather stubborn men).

Jessica always looked forward to the parties thrown by Lydia Martin as they gave her an excuse to wear the pretty dresses she worked hard to buy. They also meant that she was allowed to play dress up. She adored doing Emma's makeup for the parties they attended, despite knowing that Emma was capable of doing it herself. Jessica would plan at least one day in advance thinking about what she could do with Emma's hair and makeup after she figured herself out. As such she always insisted in knowing what Emma was planning on wearing before the party. This led to much frustration on her part when Emma hadn't decided what she was going to wear to Lydia's party that night.

"What do you mean you've not decided yet?" Jessica narrowed her eyes at Emma as the two stood at their lockers on Friday afternoon.

"I just haven't really thought about it yet," Emma shrugged her shoulders and shut her locker door with a bang. "I'll probably just wear that red dress again. You know the one with the lace back."

Jessica simultaneously sighed and groaned making a noise that sounded completely unnatural coming out of her mouth. As Jessica gathered her textbooks together, she riffled through her brain to think of the dress Emma was talking about. Burrowing her eyebrows in concentration, she vaguely recalled the dress but she soon realised that the red dress with the lace back was in no way acceptable.

"Nope! No, no, no. You _cannot_ wear that. You wore it last time," She tilted her head to the side, as she flicked through the catalogue of Emma's dresses she had stored in her mind.

Emma knew better than to disturb Jessica when she was planning – she had made that mistake before and the look Jessica gave her made her want to run away and hide – so she left Jessica to her thoughts as they slowly made their way through the school hallway to the cafeteria. They quickly found a table and sat down across from each other, Jessica still in deep concentration. Her eyebrows were furrowed, her eyes narrowed and her fingers tapping rhythmically on the table top. When Jessica was this far deep in concentration it was almost impossible to get her attention. However, if she hadn't started the finger tapping then there was a slim chance she could be brought back to reality. Emma had no idea how long Jessica would remain in this state so she pulled her lunch out of her bag and began eating the sandwiches her mother had made the night before.

When Emma woke up that morning, she noticed that there wasn't a mug waiting to be washed in the sink, meaning that her mother had most likely slept through the night for a change. When Delia Moore couldn't sleep she would sit on the kitchen floor with a mug of tea in one hand and a book in the other while she waited to be tired enough to go back to bed. Emma smiled to herself as she sat in the school cafeteria, glad that her mother was finally getting some sleep.

Ryan slid into the seat next to Jessica and kissed her cheek. Jessica barely acknowledged him but did mumble a small greeting before recommencing her tapping.

"What's up with her?"

Emma raised an eyebrow and answered, "She's trying to decide what I should wear tonight".

A look of recognition swept across his face as he realised that he should stop trying to get Jessica's attention, lest he face her wrath.

"Hey, have the police said anything more about that body they found?" Emma asked Ryan, remembering that she had forgotten to talk to Jessica about it the day before.

"Um…I think they're questioning people about it but I don't know if they've charged anyone yet," he answered with a shrug of his shoulders and quickly swallowing a bite of his sandwich. "It's weird but isn't it? Nothing like that ever happens here." He took another bite of his sandwich (which was basically the size of the whole thing) and Emma looked at him, mystified at the amount of food he could fit in his mouth.

"Well there was the Hale House fire."

"Nah," Ryan scoffed. "That was an accident, doesn't count."

"Suppose," as Emma spoke Jessica interrupted her with a squeak of delight and slapped her hand on the table, causing a few heads to look in their direction.

"Okay, you're going to wear that navy dress with the blue flowers on the skirt of it, that skinny brown belt with the matching shoes, that flower necklace your mom gave you for your birthday last year and those bracelets I gave you for Christmas." She grinned triumphantly at Emma, all traces of deep concentration wiped from her face before turning to Ryan. "Hey you," she grinned, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"What are you wearing tonight then?" Emma questioned and watched as Jessica's eyes lit up in excitement but before she could answer, Lydia slid into the set next to Emma with Jackson sitting in the seat next to Ryan and Allison sitting in the seat on Lydia's other side.

"So, what are we talking about?" Lydia asked.

"What we're wearing to your party tonight." Lydia's eyes lit up just like Jessica's had but before she could join in she was interrupted by Jackson's groan of annoyance.

"No! We _are not_ talking about that!" Jackson's eyes flitted around the cafeteria before landing on the back of Scott McCall's head. "We're talking about McCall." His eyes locked on Emma, "you're still friends with Tweedledum and Tweedledee right?" He said jerking his head in Scott and Stiles' direction.

"Sort of, yeah…why?"

"What's he on?" He asked abruptly.

"What? Who?" Emma asked, thoroughly confused.

"_McCall,_" Jackson gritted his teeth and moved his gaze back to glare at Scott's head. "He has to be on something. There's _no way_ he got that good at lacrosse that quickly."

Emma could hear Lydia huff in annoyance beside her, clearly Jackson had been bothering her about it all day.

"Here's a _wild_ idea: maybe he just practised a lot. You know, that thing people to do to get better at something." Emma fired back.

"Whatever." Jackson growled, returning his stare back to Scott. "I _know _he's on something. I just need to find out what".

"You can't be serious, Jackson. This is Scott McCall: little puppy dog, wouldn't hurt a fly, Scott McCall we're talking about." Emma gave him a pointed look, conveying that she thought he was being ridiculous.

"Listen, Moore," Jackson hissed, never taking his eyes off of Scott. "I know what I'm talking about, I just need to wait for him to slip up and then expose him for the cheater he is."

Emma bit her tongue, realising that arguing with him was just going to give her a sore head. Jackson was one of the most stubborn people she had ever met, and it was something she both admired and detested about him.

"Okay," Ryan nervously laughed, trying to diffuse some of the tension that had settled on the table. "Are you coming to lacrosse practise?" He asked Jessica and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Nope, sorry," she said, popping the 'p'. "Emma's coming to mine so we can get ready for tonight. You're okay to come over right?" She addressed Emma, an expectant look upon her face.

"Yeah," Emma answered, nodding her head in confirmation. "Are you sure you can't make it tonight?" She asked Allison whom she noticed had become uncomfortable under Jackson's suspicions about Scott.

"Actually, I am coming," Allison grinned sheepishly. "Scott's taking me."

"What? When did this happen?" Emma smiled at Allison, glad that if someone was going to take an interest in her that it was Scott who Emma thought couldn't have been more of a sweetheart.

Before Allison could answer however, Jackson nearly spit out the gulp of water he had been about to drink and his eyes practically bulged out of his head. He swallowed quickly, staring intently at Allison.

"Scott McCall? Or Scott Nelson?" Jackson seethed forcing the alleviated tension to descend once more upon the table.

"McCall." Allison answered, and Emma was pleasantly surprised to find a look of steely determination plastered over her face; Emma realised that she had grossly misjudged Allison, she was not as shy as Emma thought she was.

"You can't be ser-…" but before he could finish his sentence, he was silenced by a flick of Lydia's hand as she interrupted him and defused the situation before he could erupt.

"Jackson!" She gave him a pointed look. "Do you know what you're going to wear?" She addressed Allison who smiled at her, glad that the conversation wasn't headed into an argument.

Emma always marvelled at Lydia's ability to diffuse any situation before it got out of hand, particularly were Jackson was concerned. With Lydia's quick dismissal of the previous conversation the group managed to return to some civility. Jackson quickly pulled Ryan into a conversation about the upcoming lacrosse practice but Emma could still hear Scott's name being mentioned every now and again. Allison was nervous about her date with Scott, but the girls were quick to reassure her that everything would be fine with Emma chiming in with a few embarrassing stories about Scott when he was a child to lessen Allison's nervousness.

From the corner of her eye, Emma could see Stiles and Scott throwing grapes at each other, aiming for each other's mouths. Emma laughed when she noticed Stiles flailing his arms over his head as he jumped to catch a grape that Scott had thrown at him.

Stiles, hearing Emma's laugh twisted his head around to look at her only to find her looking right back at him. His eyes widened in panic that he had been caught looking at her and nearly fell out of his seat in an attempt to turn away from her. Emma giggled at his behaviour and felt a blush creeping up her cheeks and warming her face. She shook her head to try and distract herself; she did not blush at anything Stiles Stilinski did.

"Oh my God!" Jessica stage whispered to Emma.

Emma glanced at her in confusion, "What?"

"You are totally blushing at Twitch!" Jessica's mouth was dropped open in a surprised O and her eyes were wide but there was a hint of a smile in them.

"What are you talking about? Who's Twitch?"

Jessica gave her an unconvinced look and cocked an eyebrow. "You know exactly who I'm talking about, Emma Moore."

"Stiles!" Emma hissed back, trying to keep quiet. "No, no way." She said the last part louder than she had expected, drawing Lydia's attention away from Allison and towards the two friends.

"What's going on?" Lydia asked, clearly slipping into gossip mode and pulling Allison into the conversation with her.

"Nothing," Emma answered at the same time that Jessica squealed: "Emma was blushing."

"Ooh, tell tell!" Lydia's eyes glistened at the prospect of gossip.

"There's nothing to tell, Jess is just over exaggerating."

Lydia examined Emma sceptically for a moment.

"You know, I can just about put up with Allison and Scott being a thing but I don't think I could deal with you and McCall's sidekick." Lydia flicked her hair over her shoulder and crossed her arms in front of her on the table.

Emma looked at her gobsmacked, wondering how Lydia had even come to the conclusion.

"No, there's nothing going on," Emma tried to reassure Lydia, and tried to suppress the small part of her that cried out in indignation.

She had found herself often looking for Stiles in class – which wasn't hard to do given that he always seemed to either be talking loudly or flailing around – and couldn't help that she had caught herself staring at the back of his shaved head when she sat behind him, hoping that he would turn around and talk to her.

"Good," Lydia responded with a quick nod of her head though there was still a hint of suspicion in her eyes.

In that moment the three other girls could see why Lydia was considered the 'Queen Bee' of the school. It wasn't just the popularity, her intelligence, the clothes she wore, or her boyfriend (though those factors did help), it was the way she carried herself and the way she demanded respect without having to ask for it. Lydia carried herself with her shoulders squared and her head held high; when she walked into a room, she instantly had everyone's attention. No questions asked. Yes, Lydia Martin was a force to be reckoned with.

"You're still coming over on Saturday, right?" Lydia flipped the subject once more. "You too, Allison," she smiled.

Jessica and Emma nodded in agreement while Allison glanced at Lydia in puzzlement.

"I thought your party was tonight?" She asked with a hint of panic in her voice, momentarily believing that she had gotten the day of her date wrong.

"It is, but we always get together the day after a party for a girls day."

"Oh, yeah, I should be able to make it."

"Good, I'll text you the details later."

The rest of the school day flew by at an alarming rate, so much so that Emma failed to remember much from the classes that separated her from the end of the day. She waited in apprehension for Lydia's party. A part of her was looking forward to letting loose, enjoying herself and hopefully talking to Stiles. But another, more dominant part, was worried that her confused feelings for Stiles were too obvious. She could not understand how Lydia had known that Jessica was referring to Stiles during their conversation at lunch. Emma was sure that she had not let any of her growing feelings for him show. She should have known however, that Lydia would have clicked onto Emma's feelings. She was Lydia Martin after all, and it seemed like Lydia was always two steps ahead of everyone else.

Emma was unsure if her feelings for Stiles were the result of genuine attraction or if she was just beginning to miss him speaking to her since he had recently become distant. She couldn't help the warmth that spread throughout her when she pictured Stiles, yet she wondered if her feelings for him could ever deepen, given that they hardly spoke to each other. The conflict in her mind only made her all the more determined to speak with him, even if only for a short moment, to help her sort her feelings out.

She exited the school and entered into the bright sunlight. She quickly located Jessica's car in the parking lot and headed towards it to wait for her to arrive. She did not have to wait for long before Jessica's blonde curls could be seen bobbing up and down between the cars.

"Ready?" She asked once she reached Emma who replied with a small: "yep."

The two girls clambered into Jessica's car, a small silver thing her dad had given her when she passed her driving test. It made an odd noise when the heating was switched on, like a baby monster was hidden in the heating systems, but other than that it was a perfectly fine car. Jessica named it Wanda.

"Okay, so we'll stop off at your house, pick up your stuff then head to mine?" Jessica asked before switching on the ignition.

"Sounds good," Emma replied, trying to hide the worry in her voice. She was always a bit cautious when Jessica drove her home in case Wanda decided to break down.

Luckily for both girls, the car started with no problem and they joined the line of cars waiting to exit the parking lot. As they waited they noticed Jackson, in full lacrosse gear, making his way towards the field. The two girls shared a look before they began discussing his behaviour at lunch.

"What was that all about earlier?"

"It was _really_ weird. I don't know why he would think that Scott is doing drugs. I mean this is Scott McCall we're talking about. Neither Scott or Stiles would ever even think of doing something like that." At the mention of Stiles' name Jessica swivelled her head round to look at Emma, raising an eyebrow and smirking; Emma immediately regretted her choice of words but chose to ignore Jessica as she continued. "Scott probably just practised a lot without anyone noticing to get as good as he was the other day. That's all; he's definitely not on drugs." Emma laughed, hoping that Jessica wouldn't bring the conversation back to Stiles.

Luck was not on Emma's side.

"Forget about McCall, let's talk about Twitch!" Jessica giggled while Emma internally groaned.

"Don't call him that, it's not nice," Emma lightly scolded but Jessica just rolled her eyes. "There's nothing to talk about," Emma replied as Jessica drove the car out of the parking lot and began heading towards Emma's house.

"Oh come on, Ems!" Jessica whined. "You were totally blushing when you locked eyes with him earlier!"

"No I wasn't," Emma tried to deny but knew that she didn't sound convincing at all.

"Are you seriously trying to deny it right now?" Jessica knew Emma well enough to notice a gradual change in her friend. Emma had begun to drop Stiles' name into general conversation without even realising that she was doing it more than usual and Jessica had even caught her looking shyly at Stiles when she thought no one could see. Jessica wasn't stupid; she could see that her friend was beginning to develop feelings for Twitch.

Emma didn't really know how to answer Jessica. Her mind was conflicted in regards to Stiles. She couldn't help but remember that this was the Stiles that she had been best friends with when they were young, the exact same Stiles she had shared a bubble bath with when she was two. Though, when she looked at him, she found that her pulse would race that little bit faster, her cheeks would heat up and she felt a sort of _nervousness _around him, almost as if she was waiting in anticipation for him to speak to her. She wasn't sure how to answer Jessica just yet so she decided to change the subject away from Stiles.

"Allison seems nice."

There was a pause in the car in which both girls sat in silence. Jessica wanted to gain an answer from Emma but knew what it was like to be unsure about your feelings for someone, especially when those feelings were so new and fresh. She could understand Emma's hesitation to answer her, given that Emma was much more closed off than she was. Jessica decided to allow Emma to change the subject, even momentarily, but vowed to return to the topic of Emma and Stiles later on.

"Yeah, I've not spoken to her much. She seems a bit quiet, though it's probably just 'cause she's new and hasn't settled in properly yet." Emma breathed a sigh of relief as Jessica allowed her to change the direction of the conversation. "Mind you," she continued. "I bet you she's got some freaky hobby or something she's keeping from us. It's always the quiet ones you've got to watch out for." Jessica laughed and Emma couldn't help but grin at her, feeling herself slowly relax again.

Soon after, Jessica was parking in front of Emma's house, a small two storey structure which had no unique identifying features about it. The small garden gnome guarding the front door with a steely expression plastered on his face, unusual for that kind of garden ornament, was the only exception. The inside of the house was just as unremarkable as the outside. The walls were a muted neutral tone and the floors were all the same plain wood. The pictures that adorned the walls were the only defining features but overall, the house gave the impression that it wasn't truly lived in, almost as if it were a show home.

"Hi, mom!" Emma shouted into the house.

She heard her mother's muffled reply coming from upstairs and gestured for Jessica to follow her. When they reached the top of the stairs, passing by multiple embarrassing baby pictures, Emma paused outside of her mother's bedroom door.

"I'm not too sure what dress you were talking about so do you mind looking for it while I say hi to mom?"

Jessica nodded her agreement and headed towards Emma's bedroom, leaving the other girl behind. Emma cracked her mother's door open slightly, hoping that her mother had had one of her good days. Upon entering the room, Emma noticed the first good sign: the curtains were open and sunlight was streaming into the room. The second good sign was that her mother was fully dressed and sitting at her desk typing away at her computer. Delia Moore worked from home, organising the finances for a local boutique, so would often spend the entire day in the house. She tried to make the effort to leave the house at least three times a week.

"Hi mom," Emma said from the doorway, waiting for her mother to turn around.

When Delia did turn around, Emma quietly breathed a sigh of relief as she noticed that some of the sadness that sometimes occupied her eyes was nowhere to be seen. Delia smiled a small smile at her daughter, noticing how much time had passed since she had truly taken notice of her daughter aging. Emma was no longer the little girl that Delia still sometimes viewed her as; instead she had grown into a young adult capable of looking after herself. Sometimes Delia wished that Emma was still that little girl who would hold her hand to cross the road and would get in flour fights with her when they made cookies. However, Delia knew that this wasn't possible but still she couldn't stop herself from wishing it was true.

Delia steadily rose from her chair and crossed the room to pull Emma into a hug. This action surprised Emma who wasn't used to her mother behaving in such a way. Usually Delia didn't like being touched but when she did embrace Emma, she hugged back with everything she had, trying to pour every ounce of love she had for her mother into the embrace.

"How was school?" Delia asked as she pulled away from Emma.

"Fine, the usual. Jackson Whittemore's convinced Scott McCall's on steroids or something because he's suddenly gotten good at lacrosse," Emma rolled her eyes while her mother furrowed her brows.

"Little Scott McCall? The one you used to be friends with?" When Emma nodded her head in response Delia laughed, something Emma barely heard anymore but thought it was the most beautiful sound in the world. "That's just ridiculous," Delia continued. "I highly doubt little Scott would do that."

"That's what I said, but Jackson's like a dog with a bone. It'll probably take him a while to get over it."

"Is that Jessica in your room?" Delia asked. "Oh, you've got a party tonight right?"

"Um, yeah. But I think I'll just skip it and stay home instead," in that moment Emma forgot about her want to speak to Stiles, all she could think about was making the best of her mother's good mood.

"Don't be silly, you can stay home any night. Go out, have some fun." Delia smiled and Emma knew that she would never be able to argue her mother down no matter how much she wanted to.

"Oh, okay. Um…what time do you want me back for?"

"What time do you think it'll end? What about one o'clock?"

"One sounds good, but I think it'll probably end before that," Emma knew that this wasn't true and that Lydia's parties always stretched into the early hours of the morning but she wanted an excuse to leave early, if only to make sure that her mother was fine.

"Well, come home when you want just not after one. Deal?"

"Deal."

"Okay then, off you go, I'm sure Jessica's fed up waiting on you," She began to turn away from Emma but stopped herself before she turned her back completely. "Remember to eat something before you go, if you're going to be drinking you don't want to be sick."

"Yeah, will do," Emma smiled at her mom, she really didn't want to go anymore but she didn't want her mother to think that she was hovering.

As Emma turned to leave the bedroom she heard her mother speak again, "I love you Ems." Emma stopped in her tracks. Delia hadn't called her Ems in years; it was only Jessica that called her that now.

"I love you too mom."

When Emma entered her bedroom, she found Jessica sitting patiently on the end of the bed with a backpack filled with Emma's clothes at her feet.

"Ready?" Jessica chirped and the two girls headed out of the house and into Jessica's car once more.

Just as they were pulling up to Jessica's driveway, Grayson Reynolds was exiting the house. He stopped to wait for the girls to park before unlocking his own car.

"Hey, dad!" Jessica jogged to her father and wrapped her arms around his middle, while Emma waved her hello.

"Hey there, Magpie." He grinned and patted his daughter's back as she untangled herself from him. "What are you girls up to tonight?"

"We've got Lydia's party remember," Jessica leaned against the side of his sleek blue car as she spoke, and stretched up to tap his head.

"Ah, so you do," He grinned, ushering Jessica away from the car so he could open the door. "I must have forgotten for a moment."

"Honestly, dad, I think the old age is getting to you," Jessica joked and jumped out of the way when he tried to ruffle her hair.

"I'm not that old!" He laughed jovially, a sound as smooth as honey. "Listen girls," his laughter died as he turned serious, "I'm working the late shift tonight, but if you can't get a cab and need to be picked up just call Franklin, and he'll come and get you."

"Sure," Jessica chirped at the same time Emma said "Thank you, Mr Reynolds."

"Okay, it's no problem Emma," He smiled as he slid into his car and shut the door. He rolled his window down just as the girls began to walk away. "Have fun tonight, but be safe!"

"Bye, dad!" Jessica rolled her eyes and dragged Emma towards the front door.

As Grayson drove away, Jessica turned to Emma with a wild gleam in her eyes and squealed.

"So, what are we doing with your hair?"

-X-

When Jessica and Emma arrived at Lydia's house, the day had died and the night had come alive. Music blared from the speakers beside the pool and people were already stumbling about, the alcohol going straight to their heads. Off key signing could be heard streaming from the living room, accompanied by a boy playing an old guitar and trying to get the crowd back in key

Emma walked through the hallway of Lydia's house, a red solo cup in one hand, and she searched for one of her friends. She exchanged pleasantries with a few people as she passed ("Love your dress, where did you get it?" "Gorgeous shoes!") but she never stopped for long. Jessica had left her when she had spotted Ryan, and Emma was left to wander around and avoid Greenberg's unwanted advances. She spotted Danny in the kitchen pouring himself a drink so she made her way through the throngs of teenagers and hugged his waist from behind.

"Hey Danny boy," she giggled and Danny smiled at her over his shoulder quirking an eyebrow at her.

"You. Me. Shots. Now." He pulled away from her embrace and, grabbing her hand, led her towards the kitchen countertop where there were at least five bottles of vodka lined up.

Emma giggled as Danny clinked his shot glass with hers before they both downed the drink. The liquid burned her tongue as it slipped down her throat. She scrunched up her face at the horrible taste but the minute Danny filled up her shot glass again and handed it to her, she completely forgot about how horrible the drink tasted. She downed the drink again and giggled as she nearly tripped up even though she was standing still. Danny grinned at her and poured their third shot. They quickly finished that and Emma could barely feel the burn of it. She grabbed Danny's hand and stumbled out of the kitchen with him in tow.

"We're dancing!" She shouted over the music as the two exited the house.

"Don't have to tell me twice!" Danny laughed and spun Emma around.

The two began twirling around each other, shouting the lyrics to the song playing in each other's faces and waving their arms in the air. The two had a dance routine they only ever whipped out once they were sufficiently drunk and the right song came on – it was an embarrassing routine born in the middle of a dull PE lesson. Their eyes widened at each other and grins split across their faces as _Born This Way_ blared out of the speakers. They roared with laughter as they spun each other around and jumped in the air, laughing harder when Emma tripped and nearly sent a couple flying into the pool.

The two linked arms and stumbled away from the glaring couple. They made their way back to the kitchen and downed two more shots. Emma didn't want to admit to herself just how drunk she had become and just how quickly, she did not want Danny to start calling her a lightweight.

"So, _Miss_ Moore," Danny rushed out, leaning down so that he was eye level with Emma.

"Yes, _Mr_ Mahealani." She leaned towards him and winked.

"Who've you got your eye on?" He asked in what was supposed to be a whisper.

"Wha? None. _No_ one," Emma tried to lie but failed as her voice hitched.

"_Sure_ 'bout that?" Danny wiggled his eyebrows at her and winked.

"Wha' 'bout you?" Emma slurred, trying to change the subject.

"Don't try…don't try to change the subject." He wrapped his arm around Emma's shoulder and turned her around to face the door way were Stiles was standing chatting to a boy from their English class. "Wha' 'bout Stilinski?"

Emma could feel her cheeks heat up and buried her face in Danny's chest, partly to hide her blush and partly to stop herself from falling over.

"Go talk to him," Danny commanded playfully and bumped her hip with his.

"One more shot, for…uh," she struggled to think of the word. "Oh, courage! One more for courage!"

Danny grinned at her and proceeded to pour them another shot, getting more vodka on the countertop than in the glasses. Emma turned the faucet on after finishing the shot and stuck her mouth under the running water, taking a large gulp. She knew that she was drinking water too late in the game to stop a hangover but she figured that she might as well try.

"You're stalling," Danny frowned at her but laughed when she gave him her 'puppy dog' eyes. "Go!" He laughed again and gave her a slight shove in Stiles' direction.

Emma sent Danny a half-hearted glare over her shoulder but he only waved his hand at her and turned to begin chatting up a cute boy from his chemistry class. Emma spun back around and noticed that Stiles was by himself in the doorway so, taking a deep breath, Emma tried to steady herself as she danced her way towards him. She hugged him from behind and felt him startle slightly before he relaxed minutely, realising who was hugging him.

"Hey stranger," Emma giggled and moved round him so that she was facing him.

"Hey Emma, good party huh?" Stiles desperately tried to look at Emma's face and not at the cleavage peeking out of the top of her dress.

"You weren't invited," Emma stated, struggling to keep a straight face as Stiles floundered trying to think of a response.

"Oh, um…I uh…well you see. See the thing is…" Stiles stumbled over his words and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Stiles!" Emma laughed, placing her hands on his shoulders which were more muscular than she had imagined them to be and for a moment forgot what she had wanted to say. "I'm messin' with you." She giggled and this time Stiles laughed with her.

"How've you been? I haven't spoken to you in ages," Emma whined as she grabbed his hand and led him to a quieter area.

Emma couldn't help the blush that crept up her cheeks at the feeling of Stiles' large hand in her smaller one. She was glad that she was still in front of Stiles, leading him away from the kitchen, so that he couldn't see her face.

"Ya know, the usual," Stiles tried to remember what she had asked him as he watched her hips sway as she walked.

"We're okay right? You and me?" She asked him as she reached her intended destination, the staircase.

"Um, yeah. What do you mean?" Stiles asked as he sat down, gulping when Emma stood between his legs and gazed down at him.

"I don't know. I just feel like we've been a little distant lately. Do you know what I mean?"

Stiles stared into Emma's eyes and marvelled at the mixture of colours in them; for a moment he thought that they looked like the sky moments before a thunderstorm and couldn't stop himself form smiling slightly before he remembered that she was waiting on an answer. He missed talking to Emma and looking into her eyes.

"I've just been a bit busy lately," Stiles nodded his head, only telling her a small part of the unbelievable, messed up, truth.

"Sorry," Emma stared at her feet, avoiding looking at Stiles. "I guess I'm just being a bit silly." She rubbed her hand across her forehead and let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding.

"Hey, hey, no you've not." Stiles grabbed her hand, feeling guilty that she blamed herself for him distancing himself from her.

When Stiles grabbed her hand, Emma immediately looked up and caught him looking right at her. Usually, when they caught each other staring, they would quickly look away and then shyly look back. This time, however, an effect of copious amounts of alcohol and false courage, they stayed staring at each other.

Neither of them noticed the music playing in the background or the sound of teenagers counting to three as they took their shots. They didn't notice the couple kissing behind them or the two girls that had just exited the downstairs bathroom, sloppy grins on their faces. What they did notice, was that Stiles was still holding Emma's hand in his, that Emma's free hand was delicately placed on Stiles' shoulder and that neither had looked away yet. Emma couldn't help but notice the way that Stiles' hazel eyes seemed to glow golden in the dim lighting and that she could barely make out the small splattering of moles across his face. Stiles noticed that Emma gripped his hand a little tighter, intertwining her fingers with his, her body unconsciously leaning into his. The hand on his shoulder made a shiver run up his spine. As they stared at each other, their breathing became slightly heavier and a flash of nervousness crossed both of their faces. Stiles leaned closer to Emma, so close that he could make out a larger freckle – the shape of a heart – just below her right ear. The air was charged with electricity neither had felt before, it made their breathing shallow as they gazed at each other in anticipation. Stiles internally groaned when he saw Emma lightly bit her lip.

They both leaned into each other, their faces inches apart when Stiles remembered seeing Emma stumbling as she walked and danced with Danny. He remembered hearing her slurring her words. He wanted to kiss her; he craved to feel her lips on his and to feel the electricity move from his shoulder to his mouth. But he didn't want their first kiss to be because she was drunk. He wanted the kiss between them to be real and sober.

He pulled back slightly but when Emma followed him he whispered her name. There was hint of longing in his voice and Emma looked at him in confusion, her eyebrows furrowed slightly. Stiles hated to see hurt quickly flash in her eyes but he knew that he had made the right decision. If he was going to kiss Emma Moore, one of his childhood best friends, he wanted it to be right.

"Emma, I…" Stiles was interrupted by Scott McCall sprinting passed them breathing heavily, and hunched over as if he was in pain.

Stiles groaned, knowing that he was going to have to run after his best friend.

"Listen, Emma, I've got to go," his voice was pleading for her to understand that he wasn't just running away from her.

"Oh, um, o-okay." Emma bit her lip and nodded her head, stepping away from him and refusing to look into his eyes.

"Emma, I'm so sorry, I've really got to go," Stiles gave her one last lingering look before he chased after Scott, leaving her alone on the stairs.

Emma frowned at the spot Stiles had just vacated. She wondered if she had done something wrong, had read the signs wrong. She had thought that he wanted to kiss her too. She was sure that she had caught him staring at her in school, and looking over at her when she spoke. Emma sank onto the step Stiles had been sitting on and began to doubt herself. She placed her head in her hands and began to think of all the signs she believed she had misread.

She felt an arm wrap around her shoulders and lifted her head from her hands, hoping that Stiles had returned. Instead she found a very drunk Danny sitting next to her and an angry Jackson – with his arms crossed over his chest – in front of her.

"You okay?" Danny asked her squeezing her arm lightly. "We saw what happened."

Before she could answer him, Jackson remarked, "You can do much better than Stilinski, Moore." He spat out Stiles' name but his expression softened when he looked at Emma. "I wouldn't worry about it, Stilinski's an idiot."

Jackson Whittemore was a conceited and selfish boy but he was incredibly loyal to his friends. Even though he and Emma Moore fought like cat and dog, he still considered her one of his few true friends and he did not like seeing his friends upset. In Jackson's opinion it was just trivial to be upset by anything Stilinski or McCall did.

Emma smiled lightly at Jackson, knowing that he meant well and not wanting to get into an argument with him. Danny rolled his eyes at Jackson and gripped Emma's shoulder a bit tighter.

"I don't know, did I do something wrong?" She glanced at Danny, seeing him already shaking his head at her.

"No, trust me, you did everything right," he was about to continue when Jackson interrupted him.

"Yeah, it's Stilinski that's the one with the problem." The way he spoke made it seem like it was physically painful for him to say Stiles' name.

Emma smirked at Jackson and refused Danny's offer of another drink. She knew that she wasn't, but she felt suddenly sober. She wanted to go home and curl up in her bed and sleep for as long as she needed. When she told the two boys as much, Danny protested slightly, saying that it was too early for her to go home but when he saw the look on her face, he stopped talking. The two boys shared a look as Emma staggered to her feet and began to walk away from them, waving goodbye to them over her shoulder.

She looked around for Jessica, wanting to say good bye to her before she left but when she couldn't find her, she sent her a quick text letting her know she was going home. Emma knew that the text was horribly misspelt but couldn't bring herself to care.

When she left Lydia's house, the fresh air felt like a relief. It helped to clear her head slightly and she felt herself relax. As she stood in Lydia's driveway she groaned when she realised that she had no way of getting home. She stuck her hand into the pocket of her dress and pulled out her mobile to call a cab when she heard her name being shouted.

"Emma!"

She looked up to see Allison waving at her. Allison was standing next to a much older man. Emma had to admit that he was incredibly handsome but as she looked at him she couldn't help but shiver, and not in the same way she had shivered under Stiles' gaze. There was something about the man that intimidated her, almost as if she could instinctually sense that he was dangerous. His green eyes pierced into hers and Emma felt herself shrink into herself as if she were a small animal cowering away from a predator. Allison seemed perfectly at ease next to him, despite his intimidating frame as he towered over her. Emma guessed that he was easily six foot, if not taller, and knew that the top of her head would barely reach his shoulders. She glanced at him warily once more before slowly turning her attention back to Allison.

"Hey, Allison, is everything okay?" She asked, glancing at the man and using the tone that women use to gage if another woman is uncomfortable or in need of rescuing when someone is making advances on them.

"Yeah, well not really." Allison admitted with a sigh. "Scott and I were dancing and then I don't really know what happened, we were about to kiss and he just freaked and ran off. I ran after him but he was already gone by the time I got outside." She finished, a mixture of sadness and confusion gracing her face.

"That's weird," Emma frowned. "I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for it."

"Yeah," Allison sighed and Emma could see the man's jaw tighten as if he was impatient with having to listen to the girls talk. "Are you heading home?"

"Yeah, do you want to get a cab with me?" Emma gave Allison the option, not liking the feeling she was getting from the man looming behind her.

"No, Scott's friend is going to give me a ride home," she nodded her head before she looked to the man Emma doubted was really Scott's friend. Before Emma could stop her Allison asked: "would you mind giving Emma a lift too?"

The man clenched his jaw, gritting his teeth before reluctantly answering: "fine".

Emma widened her eyes at Allison, trying to tell her with a look that there was something off about Scott's supposed friend.

"No it's okay, we can just get a cab, _Allison_," Emma stressed Allison's name hoping that she would catch onto what Emma was trying to say.

"Emma, it'll save you the money, and Derek's fine with it." Allison smiled at Emma and Emma couldn't believe that she would trust the man.

"Listen," Emma approached Allison and stood so close that the other girl would be able to hear her when she whispered. "Jessica's dad told us to call if we needed a lift home. If you don't have the money for a cab, then we can do that." Emma tried to reason as her eyes flashed to Derek. He was staring around him, his face set into an annoyed expression. Emma wasn't sure how, but she knew that he could hear every word she whispered. It unsettled her to say the least.

"No, we can't do that," Allison whispered back, "Jessica isn't even with us!"

"I can go get her and we'll all leave together."

"No, I don't want to ruin her night," Allison bit her lip as she shook her head.

"You won't be!"

"No, I'm just going to go with Derek; you don't have to if you don't want to." Allison's mind was firmly set as she waited for Emma's response.

Emma glanced at Derek, not liking the atmosphere he was giving off. She knew that Allison would get in the car with him even if she didn't agree and she was not going to leave Allison alone with him. So making her decision, and with a frustrated sigh, Emma agreed to get into Derek's car, figuring that it would be harder for him to overpower two girls than one.

She sent a hurried text to Jessica, letting her know the change of plans, and she hoped that this text was better spelt than the last.

Emma sat in the backseat of Derek's car with her phone clenched in her hand, 911 waiting to be dialled if he tried anything she didn't like. Allison sat in the passenger seat, completely at ease with the situation.

"It's hot in here," Allison remarked, fanning herself with her hand. "Can we turn the air con on?"

"No," came Derek's short, sharp reply.

The car descended into tense silence as Allison shrugged her jacket off and placed it on the back seat, but Emma was too focused on clutching her phone and staring at Derek to notice.

Emma quickly realised that Allison was going to be dropped off first and felt her heart rate pick up. She did not want to be alone in the car with Derek so when he parked the car outside of Allison's house, Emma moved to exit the car.

"What are you doing?" Allison looked at her in confusion.

"I can walk from here, it's fine," she glanced at Derek and quickly looked away.

"But isn't your house ages away? I think Lydia mentioned it." Allison continued.

Emma groaned, making a mental note to have serious talk with Allison.

"I can drop you off," Derek grunted from the driver's seat, sounding like he wanted to be in the car with Emma less than she wanted to be in it with him.

"See!" Allison smiled at Emma and left the car but quickly stuck her head back through the door. "You're going back to Lydia's tomorrow right?"

"Yeah," Emma answered quickly, just wanting to be home and away from the entire situation.

"Good! See you tomorrow then." Allison chirped and shut the car door, leaving Emma truly alone with Derek.

Derek sped away from Allison's house and Emma took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself down. The two sat in the car in complete awkward silence, only the vibration of the engine could be heard. She felt Derek's eyes on her and quickly looked up realising that she hadn't given him her address. She quickly muttered it to him, tacking on a "thank you" to the end, not wanting to annoy him. It took him five minutes to reach her house, and Emma thought it was the longest five minutes of her life.

"Thanks for the lift," she chanced a glance at him and noticed him looking at her quizzically as if he were trying to solve some puzzle. It unnerved Emma to say the least. "Um, yeah, see you later."

She quickly left his car and shut the door behind her a little harsher than she had intended, completely forgetting Allison's abandoned jacket in her panic. She had to restrain herself from sprinting to her front door but when she did reach it, her hands were shaking so much that she struggled to hold her key properly. She dropped it a few times but relaxed when she heard the roar of Derek's car as he drove away. She let out a shaky breath, feeling like she could finally breathe as she hastily put the key in the lock and rushed into her house, locking the door behind her.

She leaned her back against the front door and took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself down. She felt completely sober now as exhaustion began to take over. Sending a quick text to Jessica to let her know she was home safe, she took her shoes off so that she wouldn't make too much noise as she moved through the house. She paused outside her mother's door and smiled slightly when she heard soft snoring coming from the room.

When she entered her bedroom, she felt herself relax further, knowing that she was safe in her own room. But there was still a part of her that was frightened by Derek; there was something she couldn't quite put her finger on. All she knew was that he scared her.

Emma got herself ready for bed and as she lay down to sleep she couldn't help but hope that she never had to see Derek again.

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**Hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think, feedback is greatly appreciated.**

**Thank you to everyone who has favourited and followed, and thank you to greenangel01 for reviewing!**


	3. Chapter 3 - Stranger Danger

***Important*: for anyone who has read this story before, I have updated and changed parts of the first two chapters so they will differ a bit from the original. I just wasn't 100% happy with the original product, but I've recently had a flash of inspiration and have decided to revisit this. 22nd August, 2015**

**I do not own _Teen Wolf _or any of the characters other than my own. All rights go to the respective owners.**

* * *

_"__I'm dead…I think I've died and been sent to one of those stupid circles of hell…"_

Suffice to say Emma's first thoughts on Saturday morning weren't the most pleasant. In fact, she felt like death itself. Her head was pounding, her throat was parched and she had the most unsettling dizzy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She worried that if she opened her eyes her brain might liquefy and escape from her skull. Not appealing one bit. So, making her decision with a cross between a grunt and a moan, she shifted into a more comfortable position only to bump into something solid.

She froze. There was something in her bed that shouldn't have been there. Her heart thumped as she wracked her mind to think of what it could be. She only had the one teddy on her bed and it was far too small to be whatever it was that she was feeling, so it couldn't be that. She didn't have any pets either and even if she had had one, she couldn't think of any cat or dog she had ever seen that was the same size as she was.

Just as she was resigning herself to death by a monstrously large wild animal that had somehow broken into her house, she caught a whiff of flowery perfume.

"Good morning!"

Emma's eyes shot open and she let out an almighty shriek – that she would later deny – when she saw Jessica lying beside her with the biggest Cheshire grin she had ever seen.

"Jessica!"

"Yes?" Jessica asked innocently as she watched Emma trying to regain control of her rapidly racing heart.

"What the hell are you doing? How did you even get in here?" Emma groaned, clutching her head in her hands, the sick feeling in her stomach had disappeared when Jessica had frightened her, but now it was back with a vengeance.

"Your mom let me in," Jessica blinked owlishly, the picture of innocence.

"You're such a creep!" Emma groaned and threw one of her spare pillows at Jessica's head. She missed miserably.

"Shut up," Jessica scolded, cradling the thrown pillow close to her chest. "Go shower, you stink of booze."

"But you love the smell!" Emma cried in mock disdain, to which Jessica wrinkled her nose in distaste.

Emma laughed at the look of horror plastered on Jessica's face when she moved to hug her.

"No! Don't you _dare_!" Jessica's protests fell on deaf ears as Emma wrapped her in a bear hug and squeezed their bodies together. "Oh my God, Emma, you're going to make me sick!"

Emma laughed, but only hugged her friend tighter. Jessica gave one last shove, a futile attempt to escape Emma's hug, before giving up and resigning herself to her fate.

"I hate you," Jessica tried to sound angry, but Emma could tell that she was trying not to laugh.

"Love you too!" Emma grinned as she released Jessica and tumbled out of bed.

Jessica rolled her eyes at Emma's retreating figure.

"You know I'm going to get you back for that!" Jessica called as Emma reached the bathroom door directly across the hall.

"Uh-huh, _sure_ you will," Emma smirked as the pillow Jessica had been holding soared through the air towards her. She swung the bathroom door shut just in time for her to hear a soft thud as the pillow collided with the wooden door.

She could hear Jessica grumbling outside as she picked up the fallen pillow.

-X-

When Emma had woken up that morning, she had momentarily forgotten about Derek driving her home from Lydia's party. It wasn't until she was in the shower, trying to wash off the smell of stale alcohol, that everything came back to her and uneasiness built up inside her. She had nearly dropped the shampoo bottle on her foot when she remembered that she had been left alone in a car with a man she found incredibly intimidating. She only allowed herself a small sense of relief that nothing had happened to either her or Allison.

The hot shower had helped soothe Emma's stomach somewhat, though when she thought of certain foods her stomach would insist on doing more somersaults, and even though she had brushed her teeth three times, everything still had the faintest taste of vodka. It was the worst hangover of her life, she had grumbled to Jessica as she brushed her wet hair. Jessica had been unsympathetic and had insisted on speaking louder than normal.

Jessica scrolled through her cell phone while Emma readied herself for the day and tried to make herself somewhat presentable, she didn't think she could take Lydia's wrath with the way she was feeling.

"So," Jessica broke the hazy silence of the bedroom, "are you going to tell me what these texts mean?"

Before Emma could react, Jessica lobbed her phone at the unsuspecting girl. Emma just managed to catch it before it struck the corner of her wooden desk. She blinked in surprise at Jessica, knowing that the phone was precious to the blonde. Jessica simply shrugged in nonchalant response. Emma shifted her gaze to the phone, wincing when she saw that the conversation open on the screen were the texts she had sent the night before:

_ im goin hume_

_ This is ceris im getting in a car wit Alson n DEREK ill let u no wen im hum_

_ Home_

"Okay, so the first one is: I'm going home. The second one is-"

"I know what they mean," Jessica sharply interrupted with a roll of her eyes.

"Then why did you-"

"Who's Derek?" Jessica interrupted again, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Okay, so," Emma breathed out a sigh, "when I was leaving last night, I saw Allison about to get in a car with this _really _creepy guy and-"

"Creepy how?" Jessica interrupted again, brushing off the glare Emma directed at her.

"I don't know," Emma huffed in exasperation, "there was just something about him. I just got the feeling that something wasn't quite right with him, that he was dangerous."

"Was he Derek?"

"Yeah, anyway, he said that he was Scott's friend," Emma glared when Jessica moved to interrupt again; the blonde held her hands up in surrender, "and had been asked to take Allison home. There was no way that this guy was friends with Scott, and Scott had never introduced her to him, but she was going to get in the car anyway!"

"No!"

"Yes! So I offered to get a cab with her, and do you know what she did?"

"What?" Jessica asked, enraptured in Emma's story.

"She said _'no'_, and then asked Derek if he could drive me home too!"

"_No_!" Jessica refrained herself from shouting, scandalised by what Emma was telling her.

"Yes! I kept trying to get her to come with me instead, but she was so damn adamant that she was going with Derek. I even offered to phone your dad to come and pick us up if she couldn't afford a cab."

"So what did you do?" Jessica twisted so that she was lying on her front on Emma's bed and rested her head in her hands.

"I…uh…" Emma paused, wondering how to word the previous night's events properly, "I got in the car with them."

"You did what!" Jessica shouted as Emma winced sheepishly.

"Well, I didn't want her to be with him by herself, and she was going to get in the car with or without me so-"

"Ems!"

"I know, I know, but I figured it would be better if she wasn't alone!"

"I guess you're right, but still! That's dangerous, Ems!" Jessica scolded, bouncing into a seated position.

"Trust me, I _know_. But that's not the worst of it," Emma sank into her desk chair, pulling her pair of Converse over to her. "Guess what happens when Derek drops Allison off?"

"Do I want to know?"

Emma smirked at Jessica's grimace as she forcefully shoved her foot into the left shoe.

"She gets dropped off first, meaning that I'm going to be left alone with Derek," she held up her hand again to prevent Jessica from interrupting, "so I try to get out of the car, but she stops me and just _throws_ away any hope I had of getting out of the car. So then I have to sit in the car alone with Mr Creeptastic until he drives me home!"

"But you're okay right?" Jessica asked urgently, jumping from the bed and crossing the room to Emma. "Nothing happened?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Emma reassured. "He dropped me off and left, but it was _the_ most nerve wracking experience of my life. I'm going to have serious words with Allison when we get to Lydia's."

-X-

As it turned out, the girl's day that Lydia had promised wasn't as relaxing as Emma had hoped it would be. The minute that Emma and Jessica walked through the front door, they were assaulted by an array of disgusting sights and smells, and an uncharacteristically calm Lydia.

"Morning girls," Lydia chirped before noticing Emma's thrown together, and clearly not well thought out, outfit.

Emma rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders under Lydia's withering stare. She had no idea how Lydia always looked so put together, with her hair perfectly curled and her makeup applied as if she had a live in makeup artist. Emma barely had time to think before she rushed out the door most mornings.

"Mornin', Lyds," Emma mumbled back as she suppressed a yawn.

She adjusted the sleeve of her oversized sweater and trudged passed Lydia. She was forced to pick her way over a multitude of discarded and broken plastic cups. Lydia's typically pristine house was in a complete state of chaos: patches of the floor were sticky from spilt drinks, a few of the dining room chairs were thrown onto their sides (one had even been moved halfway up the stairs), some of the pictures adorning the walls had been knocked askew, and someone had taken the time to turn every ornamental vase (of which there were plenty) upside down.

Through the double French doors adjacent to Lydia's kitchen, Emma could see Allison chasing Prada – Lydia's black and white Papillon dog – and trying to stop it from eating an abandoned solo cup. Emma waved hello to her through the glass.

"Okay," Lydia clapped her hands together as the three girls joined Allison in the equally chaotic backyard. "Emma, you start cleaning the pool. Allison, if you start cleaning up the yard and the kitchen that would be great, and Jessica, tidy up the living room," Lydia ordered as she scooped up a yapping Prada.

"What are you going to do?" Allison questioned, confusion clear on her face.

"Supervising."

"Oh, come on, Lydia! I'm hungover!" Emma protested as she picked her way over to the large net propped up against the side of the house.

"And that's my problem how?" Lydia retorted, scratching behind Prada's fluffy ears.

"Because 'supervising' isn't an actual job."

"I just had my nails done yesterday and I don't want them to get ruined," Lydia stated plainly, unwavering in her decision to simply supervise the clean-up.

Emma huffed in annoyance before backing down. Her head was still too sore for her to consider getting into a fight. Instead, she picked up the large net and began scooping out the cups and shot glasses (and a pair of underwear that made Emma shiver in horror).

"Is Lydia really not going to do anything?" Allison whispered to Emma as she began throwing trash into half full garbage bags.

"She probably did a little bit before we got here," Emma whispered conspiratorially back, "and she might do a bit more once the majority have been cleaned up. Otherwise, no."

"That's not fair," Allison grumbled.

"That's Lydia for you," Emma chuckled as she stretched as far as she could to reach a particularly stubborn cup. She was beginning to get frustrated with it, having chased it around the edge of the pool for a few minutes already. "Don't worry, if you ever throw a party, Lydia will be the first one there to help you clean up. She just doesn't want to have to host a party _and_ do all of the clean up afterwards."

"I guess that's fair," Allison grimaced as she threw away the contents of a full cup onto the Martin's manicured lawn.

"Gotcha!" Emma shouted in triumph as she successfully scooped up the most stubborn cup she had ever encountered.

The French doors slid open and the overwhelming smell of Gucci aftershave reached the two girls before the wearer did. Jackson slid out of the doors, smirking when he saw Allison and Emma hard at work. Like Lydia, his hair was perfectly styled and his outfit expertly put together and wrinkle free even though it was the same outfit he'd worn the night before. He looked like he had just stepped off of a runway.

"Aren't you the little worker, Moore!" He called across the newly cleaned pool as he plucked his discarded aviator sunglasses from one of the deck chairs.

"Why don't you come over here and help?" Emma called back.

"I would," Jackson paused, appearing to contemplate her suggestion as he smoothly slipped on his aviators, "but I just don't want to."

"Ass."

Jackson smirked at Emma's retort, kicking an empty cup back into the pool.

"You missed a spot," Jackson turned on his heels and sauntered back into the house, shouting for Lydia as he went.

"Ass!" Emma smirked as she called after his retreating figure. He raised his hand in a peace sign as a response, and Emma could just picture the smirk plastered in his face.

"Whoa, you two really don't like each other," Alison grimaced as she watched Emma stoop to collect the cup.

"What makes you think that?" Emma glanced up at the other girl, shielding her eyes from the blazing sun.

"Did you…did you not hear what you said to each other?" Allison was flabbergasted. She had seen them having two arguments in the short amount of time she had been in Beacon Hills, and had seen them taking even more jabs and making little remarks whenever they got the chance.

Emma laughed, "That's just the way we are. We're not really being serious."

"You could've fooled me."

Emma simply shrugged her shoulders. She was used to people assuming that she and Jackson hated each other, and she could understand where they coming from. Neither of them made it public knowledge that they were actually friends. Ever since they started hanging out in the same crowd they had had an odd friendship, one that centred on insult based terms of endearment. It was common for "that outfit is hideous, Moore" to be spoken in place of "good morning, Emma, how are you today?", and for "well, I did get it from your mom's closest," to really mean "I'm good thanks, and you?" If anyone ever asked if they were friends, they would fiercely deny it with protests of "why would I ever be friends with that idiot", and "I'm not friends with losers". However, they would really mean "of course we are, why wouldn't we be?" followed by a scathing scoff and a role of their eyes. It was only on rare occasions that it was clear that they were friends. Jackson's version of being comforting the night before after Stiles ran away was proof of that.

Thinking about the previous night forced Emma to think of Derek's unsettling stare and general creepiness. She shivered with uneasiness as she recalled the fear she had felt when she was alone with him. She never wanted to be in a situation like that again.

"Listen, Allison, about last night," she began, straightening to face the other girl, "you real-"

"Looks good, girls!" Lydia interrupted, clapping her hands together and surveying her spotless yard. "Oh, Allison, here you go," she daintily picked up a missed shot glass and crossed over to an almost overflowing garbage bag.

"Told you so," Emma mouthed to Allison, forcing the other girl to clamp her hand over her own mouth to stifle her laughter. Allison had to fake a spluttering cough to cover up the giggles that escaped, causing Lydia to eye her suspiciously.

"Okay," Lydia drew out, "We've got _The Breakfast Club_,_ 10 Things I Hate About You_,_ Mean Girls_, and_ The Notebook _to watch." Lydia took the pool net from Emma's hands and stored it away. "What do you want to watch first?"

"Not _The Notebook_," Emma protested, "we watched it last time, and there's only so much Ryan Gosling a person can take."

"Allison wants to watch _The Notebook_, don't you Allison," Lydia gave the brunette a pointed stare.

"I'd prefer _The Breakfast Club_," Allison squared her shoulders and refused to blanch at Lydia's huff of indignation.

"I knew there was a reason we'd be friends," Emma grinned and slung her arm around Allison's shoulders. The other girl huffed out a laugh as Lydia narrowed her eyes at them before turning on her heels and flouncing back into the house.

It wasn't until the four girls had eaten their way through one tub of chocolate ice cream – and halfway through their second – and Bender was re-enacting his home life on screen, that Emma found the moment to talk to Allison about Derek.

"I've got two words for you Allison: stranger danger. _Stranger danger_."

When Allison looked at Emma in confusion, her spoon laden with chocolate ice cream frozen on its way to her mouth, Emma rolled her eyes and continued.

"Mr Tall, Dark and Scary as Hell! Seriously Allison?"

"He said he was Scott's friend." Allison muttered and avoided looking at Emma, which wasn't difficult given that Emma was sitting on the couch and Allison was sitting on the floor.

"Has Scott ever actually mentioned him?"

"Well no, but why would he tell me he was Scott's friend if he wasn't?" Allison questioned, not understanding where Emma's anger was coming from.

Emma's eyes widened in disbelief and desperately tried to hold back a scoff.

"Seriously?" Her voice had lost all traces of anger and was replaced with total annoyance. "He could have been some psycho serial killer or something!"

"But he wasn't! Nothing happened, we're both fine and that's that!" Allison huffed and angrily dug her spoon back into the ice cream container on her lap.

Emma's jaw clenched in newly awakened anger, her nostrils flared as she tried to control her breathing. She let out the breath she had been holding and almost growled a "whatever", knowing that Allison was just as stubborn as she was.

Jessica and Lydia had watched the entire exchange from the side-lines, not wanting to get involved in the argument. They shared subtle glances with each other as their two friends fought and continued to sit in uncomfortable silence once the girls had finished talking. The tension became too much for Lydia who clapped her hands together and switched the television off as the movie finished.

"Okay!" She exclaimed and pushed Emma's legs from her lap. She crossed her legs and turned to face Emma fully, she had a wild look in her eyes and Emma was worried about what was going to happen next.

"Jackson told me about last night," Lydia quirked an eyebrow and twirled a lock of hair around her finger, silently daring Emma to deny what she was talking about.

"Um…" Emma bit her lip and avoided making eye contact with Lydia, silent cursing Jackson for using her as pillow talk.

The two other girls had looked up at Emma from their position on the floor; Jessica's eyes sparkled with excitement while Allison's face remained void of emotion, clearly still annoyed.

"Emma," Lydia warned.

"I nearly kissed Stiles." Emma rushed out so quickly that she had to repeat what she had said twice before Jessica heard her properly.

"You…" Jessica looked at Emma for confirmation, her eyes wide and her jaw dropped.

"Nearly kissed Stiles, yeah." Emma nodded her head, a blush creeping up her cheeks and warming her face.

"Oh. My. _God_!" Jessica squealed and bounced onto her knees, gazing up at Emma with a smile plastered across her face from ear to ear. "I knew you liked him!

Emma ducked her head and grimaced slightly, remembering how Stiles had ran away from her just as their lips were about to touch. Jessica's smile sank as she looked at Emma and caught onto the way Emma had phrased the event.

"Wait, wait, _nearly _kissed Stiles?" She questioned.

"Yeah," Emma muttered in embarrassment. "He just freaked out and ran away from me."

"Scott did the same to me." Allison mumbled, any evidence of anger was wiped from her face, replaced only with sympathy as she knew exactly what Emma was feeling.

"What is with those two?" Lydia threw her hands up in exasperation. "They should be grateful that they have the two of you fawning over them. Though I must say, your taste in men is abysmal."

"Lydia!" Emma scolded.

"What? It's true!"

"It wouldn't hurt you to be a little nicer, Lyds."

"Oh sweetheart, I'm only nice to the people who deserve it," Lydia said as she flipped her hair over her shoulders and batted her eyelashes innocently. "_Mean Girls_?" Lydia chirped, jumping from her seat and bouncing over to the DVD player.

As the opening scene began to play, Emma couldn't help the flush of red hot embarrassment that spread across her cheeks. Yes, she was with her closest friends, but she didn't like having to admit what had happened with her and Stiles. She had planned on keeping that a secret for as long as she could (which didn't mean twelve hours). It was bad enough that she hadn't properly admitted to herself that she liked Stiles, but now she was being forced to admit that not only that she _did _like him, but had also been rejected by him. The whole thing was humiliating.

She noticed Jessica furiously typing on her phone, her eyes occasionally jumping to the film before returning to her smaller screen. Emma's phone beeped in her pocket, and when she pulled it out, the screen read that she had a text from Jessica. She frowned at the blonde, opening her mouth to ask her why she had text her, but Jessica shook her head wildly.

_ Why didn't you tell me about Twitch!?_

The text read. Emma's eyebrows creased as she frowned down at her phone. She moved to actually speak to Jessica but the other girl pointed rapidly at her phone.

_ It didn't come up…_

She typed back and heard Jessica huff when she read her answer.

_ Emma!_

_ This is important! I told you everything about Ryan when we started dating!_

Emma rolled her eyes at the two texts.

_ A: you and Ryan are completely different, and B: me and Stiles aren't dating. He doesn't like me like that anyway._

_ Not that I care!_

She could see Jessica shaking her head, her blonde curls bouncing in the sunlight drifting through the window behind her. Sometimes, when the sun hit her just right, Jessica's hair looked like a halo of light.

_ You can't bullshit me Emma Moore! I know you like him…_

Emma rolled her eyes at the message. She didn't know what to say, so instead of responding, she simply locked the screen and stuffed her phone back into her pocket. It beeped again with a new text, but she refused to acknowledge it. It beeped once more and Emma ignored it, focusing on Cady's first interaction with the Plastics.

"Emma!" Jessica hissed quietly, grunting in frustration when Emma crossed her arms over her chest and kept focusing on the movie.

"Emma!" She tried again, but when Emma still ignored her, she decided that drastic measures were necessary.

She pulled her handbag up from the floor and set it on her lap. She began rifling through its contents, before she finally came across a blank notebook. She ripped out a handful of pages, shivering at the sound it made – the noise always made her skin crawl – and scrunched the pages into a ball.

"Emma!" She gave her friend one last chance, but when she was still ignored, she launched the makeshift missile straight at Emma's head.

Emma jumped in shock when the scrunched up paper struck her temple. She rubbed her head and glared at Jessica in mock anger before plucking the paper ball from the seat beside her and throwing it back.

"What?" Emma mouthed.

Jessica shook her phone at the girl, widening her blue eyes and arching her thin eyebrows.

"_What_ are you two doing?" Lydia rounded on the two girls who froze, like frightened rabbits, at being caught.

"Nothing," the two girls lied sheepishly.

"So you _haven't_ been texting each other for the past five minutes? And you _haven't_ been throwing paper at each other?"

"Um…no?" Emma sank into her seat, hoping that she would somehow be sucked into the couch so she could avoid Lydia's stare.

Lydia pursed her lips and gave them both a pointed look before whipping back around in her seat. Allison's shoulders shook with silent laughter. Emma and Jessica shared a look most commonly found on the faces of children after they have been thoroughly scolded by their mothers.

"So," Allison chirped, twisting round from her position on the floor, "is it just me, or is Mr Harris the chemistry teacher an asshole?"

The tension broke in the room as the three other girls descended into fits of giggles and began moaning about horrible teachers and applauding the ones who got it right.

-X-

Sunday morning dawned with a sky full of pearly white clouds, and a humidity that threatened rain. The quiet chill of the wind drifted gently across Emma's exposed shoulders. Her stomach no longer ached and her head had long since seized its pounding, so she awoke with a gratefulness the previous day had lacked. Plus there were no unwanted visitors in her bed to frighten her. Her eyes blinked wearily open and she allowed herself the luxury of snuggling back into her pillows until she had fully adjusted to the light.

She had had a relaxing night of sleep; the red lines branded into her skin from her bed sheets proved just how deeply she had fallen into dreamless unconsciousness.

She stretched her arms above her head and arched her back. Her shirt shifted upwards over her stomach and the sheets fell away from her like water. She could hear the soft murmur of the kitchen radio drifting up the stairs; it only picked up three stations. She smiled as she breathed in the smell of brewed coffee, a luxury she only indulged in on the rare occasion.

_08:37_, her phone displayed when she switched it on. Not too early. _Today will be a good day_, she told herself.

As she was about to leave her room, she noticed her running shoes spilling out of her wardrobe. They were a sad reminder that she hadn't gone running since school broke up for the holidays. She dreaded to think of what Coach Finstock would say if he found out how little she had exercised over the break. She always let herself slip into bad habits during the winter months. The cross country team only ran during the warmer months of the year, she figured she was safe taking a break. She always regretted this decision when she had to work twice as hard to get back to an acceptable standard. _Today will be a good day and this year will be different_, she repeated to herself.

Thirty minutes after she made her decision, and a kiss on the cheek from her mom, she set out onto a familiar running trail, music blaring from her earphones. Her parents had taken her on the same path many times when they went on walks. She would hold their hands and they would swing her between them and lift her over troublesome roots. She would splash in puddles with her little yellow boots after heavy rain falls. Her father would laugh a booming sound, and the birds would take to the skies. It was her favourite part of the forest.

She remembered a day filled with sunshine, when her family was still whole. When Stiles' mother was alive and Scott's dad was still around. The three families had trekked over the same path she was running on eleven years later and not yet as worn down. They had spent a good part of the day surrounded by the trees and wildlife of the forest. She could almost taste the memory of the juice pouches they had drunk and of the strawberry ice lollies.

On her run she skipped around a fallen tree that had once stood tall. She remembered Stiles climbing it on that day and pretending to be Batman. He had thought he had broken his arm when he fell from it; instead he just got a nasty bruise. She could almost hear Mrs McCall reminding Scott to take his inhaler. As she ran, she imagined she could see her dad and Sheriff Stilinski - then just a deputy - walking ahead of the group.

All too soon, that memory vanished as her foot caught on a root and she careened towards the ground. She managed to throw her hands out just in time to break her fall. She hissed in pain as her palms grazed across the forest floor, her skin nicked by snapped twigs. Her knee throbbed from where it had slammed into the ground and she knew it would be black and blue soon enough.

"Damn it," she groaned as she pushed herself into a seated position.

Damp leaves and dirt clung to her clothes and she winced at the state she had gotten herself into.

"So much for today being a good day," she grumbled.

She was only fifteen minutes into her run and was already beginning to struggle. She knew she shouldn't have waited so long to start exercising again. _Eating that much ice cream yesterday won't have helped either_, she scolded herself.

She rolled onto her back and stared at the sky through the tree tops, waiting for her breath to even out. In a short amount of time the clouds had begun to turn grey, desperate to rain. She guessed that she had a while before this happened so she continued to lie on the ground.

A new song began playing from her iPod, a slow song that had no place on her running playlist. Such a thing would have bothered her on any other given day, but as she lay on the ground she felt an odd sense of serenity. It was an unusual wave of calmness that washed over her body as she lay there, a strange feeling of freedom. She didn't even care about the leaves that were sure to become tangled in her hair.

She began to smile. A small smile, but a smile nonetheless. It was one that was only shown by the slightest upturn of the corner of her lips, and a slight wrinkling at the edges of her eyes.

She curled her toes in her shoes, then stretched them as far as they would go. She did the same with her fingers, recalling an exercise a nurse had taught her sixth grade class.

She realised how embarrassing it would be if someone she knew found her. _Who lies in the middle of the woods doing relaxation exercises? _She laughed at herself.

_This is so-_ her thoughts abruptly cut off when a twig snapped behind her.

It seemed that time stopped as she froze. Her breathing hitched and her toes stopped curling and uncurling. Images flashed before her eyes of news headlines about a girl's body being found in the woods. She cursed herself for being so reckless. First she had gotten in a car with the king of creepiness. Now she had went, alone, into the same woods a girl had died in.

Another twig snapped, closer this time.

Emma squeezed her eyes shut, her heart accelerating at an alarming rate. There was no way she could hide. She was lying in the open in the middle of the trail. There was no way whoever was behind her hadn't seen her.

_It could just be an animal_, she bargained with herself, _and if it's not, just run._

Steeling her resolve, she twisted into a crouch.

Snap! Closer again.

She rose to her feet, trying to stop her hands from trembling.

_It's just an animal, a rabbit maybe_, she pleaded for it to be true.

She took a deep breath. Then another.

_Crunch! _

It was so close. Her eyes snapped shut and her hands balled into shaking fists.

_Just run! _She screamed in her head, but her feet stayed rooted to the spot. Instead, she began to look over her shoulder. She didn't want to see what was behind her, but morbid curiosity was forcing her look.

_It's official; I'd be the first to die in a horror movie._

Snap!

She twisted around completely, her hand flying to her mouth to stop a scream from bursting from her lips.

A figure stood amongst the trees a mere ten feet away with its back to her. She guessed it was a man from his general build, lean but still muscular. He was tall, but hunched over as if he were in pain. His dark hair fell to the collar of his black jacket. When she looked closer it appeared that one side of his hair was missing. He stood motionless, almost as if he had yet to realise she was there.

Emma searched through the trees, looking for anyone else. When she saw no one other than the eerily still man, she took a calculated step backwards.

Snap!

She froze, wincing when her foot broke a delicate twig. The man gave no sign that he had heard her. He stayed motionless, staring at something Emma couldn't see.

Her iPod shuffled to a new song, and Emma jumped when a fast paced beat roared in her ears. She ripped her eyes away from the man, rushing to pause her music. She prayed he wouldn't hear it.

Her fingers fumbled with the pause button but she somehow managed to silence the music.

Crunch!

Her head shot back up but the man was nowhere in sight.

She spun in a full circle, trying to locate him, but he had vanished into thin air, like a ghostly apparition.

Had she imagined it? A ghost of a man, stopped over in apparent pain. She couldn't believe that she would be able to conjure up something so real from her imagination. Yet, how could anyone disappear so suddenly? She didn't believe in ghosts, such things belonged in books and movies. Still, she ran a little faster home and didn't slow as she passed close to the burned Hale house as she usually would.

The whole time she ran, her lungs burned and her legs pleaded for her to stop. She had the distinct feeling of eyes watching her every move.

Even when she slammed her front door shut and locked it behind her, she felt that someone was still out there. Someone was still watching her.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed it! Thank you for reading, and let me know what you think. Any feedback is greatly appreciated.**

**On a side note, I'm thinking of making most of the chapters closer to this length since it might keep me to a better schedule.**

**Anyway, thank you to everyone who has favourited and followed, and a big thank you to greenangel01 for reviewing. **


	4. Update

Hey everyone,

First of all, I wanted to that I'm sorry about the long hiatus I took on this story. I had terrible writers block, and just couldn't seem to figure where to take the characters next.

I've decided to rewrite this story in a new story called '**Blind Spot**', the first chapter of which I intend to upload either tonight or tomorrow. In the meantime, I've posted a preview for 'Blind Spot' on the tumblr account I created for my fics: **_allthatpurpleprose_** while I go through the final edit of the chapter, so please feel free to check that out in the meantime.

I'm much happier with the direction the new story is going in and I will be able to update it more regularly.

I hope everyone enjoys the new direction Emma and Stiles are going to go in!

Once again, I wanted to say sorry for the ridiculously long delay, but I am in a much better place to write now.

Thank you all, and I hope you check out 'Blind Spot',

jarmrcc1


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